


Fuck You Is What You Were Invited To

by mickeygrumpovich



Series: Gallavich Series 1 [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Terry does not walk in on them, just some cute feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 15:26:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1862871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeygrumpovich/pseuds/mickeygrumpovich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is set after the Gallaghers are separated by DFS, where Lip and Ian are in the halfway home. Just Ian and Mickey at their sleepover.  Some cute inner monologues and fucking cuddles<3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuck You Is What You Were Invited To

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any errors and misspellings, this is my first Gallavich fic

Mickey couldn’t help fumbling with his cigarette pack. Retrieving a smoke did nothing to calm his nerves. Internally, the ex-con was happy he managed to somehow invite his redhead over to the Milkovich house. 

“Was I just invited to a sleepover?”  
“Fuck you is what you were invited to.”

Mickey waited, leaning on a pole waiting for the mentioned redhead.

Ian slid out of the halfway home, and winked at Mandy. She smiled and walked over to his brother, slipping her arm around his waist. Once he exited the building he walked to where Mickey was standing. A small smirk played on Ian’s mouth as he came into the other boy’s sight. 

“Fancy meeting you here” Ian chuckled as an annoyed look flew over Mickey’s face.  
“Fuck off.” He muttered no real venom to his tone.

The pair walked in silence, Ian sneaking glances every so often, and Mickey pretended he didn’t notice. The thought of them having a ‘sleepover’-as Ian said- made Mickey consider telling the redhead to go back to the halfway home, but shook it off, after-all he had not been with Ian in a while (well around a week) but for them that was long enough.

They reached the broken down steps of the Milkovich house. Bottles, cups, and trash littered the yard in an array of colors. “Anyone home?” Ian tried to ask nonchalantly, looking to the windows. It was Ian’s way of saying ‘are we alone tonight?’ and the pair knew it. Mickeys lips tugged into a smirk “Nope.” he muttered as he pushed the door open and with a vague shake of his hand he gestured to the redhead to close it. 

“Find something to watch, I’ll get us a beer” the ex-con said as he shook of his dirty black jacket and the sound of clinking beer bottles resounded from the old kitchen. Ian slid his own orange and black jacket off of his shoulders. He smiled to himself as he saw the shorter boy fall to the couch, nudging a beer to Ian. The redhead smiled and let his long pale fingers ghost over Mickey’s tattooed ones as he took the beer. 

The Van-Damme movie the pair had lightly argued over played as they shared a smoke. Both of them watched it before, but none of the boys bothered to comment on that. Ian could feel the warmth of the other boy through his shirt. His eyes carefully dragged along the expanse of Mickeys jaw, neck, and his shoulders. 

Ian didn’t really know what to expect when he agreed to stay over at Mickeys. They hadn’t fucked in a long time, due to all the drama occurring with the Gallaghers (DFS, the whole shooting thing). Linda had been around far too fucking often at the Kash and Grab for the pairs liking, which means they couldn’t slip away to the freezer room in a heat fueled passion.

Leaning towards the floor, the soft clang of the bottle’s base on the ground barely registered on Ian’s mind, but as the older boy sat back down on the couch Ian froze as his right side pressed warmly against the Milkovich. He slowly relaxed at the contact, looking down at their hands. It wouldn’t take much effort to slip his long fingers in the space between Mickey’s hands. He swallowed thickly at the thought of Mickey’s reaction. Ian knew something along the lines of “The fuck you trying to pull on me huh?” would likely spill from his mouth, as well as the newly acquired contact would most likely be pulled away. 

Mickey looked at Ian’s line of sight and followed the trail down to their hands. Mickey could see the flickering of emotion in the other boys green eyes; he so obviously wanted to hold hands. No fucking way would I hold hands like some queer. Mickey thought automatically. Although he knew that if the redhead did try to close the space between their hands he would succumb.

Mickey was slowly letting down his walls, and breaking his rules for that stupid redhead. He knew that it was only a matter of time before he could no longer stop himself from kissing the boy again, and holding his stupidly pretty hand. 

Mickey’s mind replayed that brief kiss they shared outside Lloyds house. The kiss was light, and careful. Mickey hadn’t really kissed many people; he kissed one girl and one other guy beside Ian. Kissing was far more intimate than sex. Sex was usually quick, rough, and amazing when it came to the redhead. But kissing was not sex, kissing is feelings, and vulnerability. 

It was the touchy feely shit that Ian craved from Mickey. The only movement between the two was the light passing of a cigarette. Ian loved sharing a smoke with Mickey, it was oddly intimate. The filter would still be lightly damp from Mickey’s mouth, and when Ian wraps his own lips around it, it feels like a sample of their kiss.

The kiss itself made Ian’s stomach churn in a way that was nauseatingly happy. 

The movie’s credits rolled in, alerting the two that the movie is coming to an end. Their bodies still sat flushed against each other as the pair eyed each other lustfully. Mickey’s bottom lip was captured by his teeth, as his eyes worked over the freckled redhead. 

“So where exactly will I be sleeping tonight?” Ian broke the silence with a teasing tone.

“Don’t know, the couch or whatever?” Mickey grumbled, avoiding the redheads gaze.

“Or whatever huh? How about your room then?” Ian suddenly stood up and walked into Mickey’s bedroom. Reaching for his jeans, he unbuckled his belt and kicked his jeans away. Mickey eyed Ian hungrily as he stood in his bedroom in a pair of black boxers and a t-shirt. 

“Like hell you’re going to sleep with me” Mickey barked out as he noisily sat on his bed, roughly kicking his shoes in Ian’s direction. Ian slowly walked up to him with that shit eating grin he hated.

“Ive slept with you before Mick” Ian remarked. Mickey realized his previous word choice wasn’t all that smart. 

“You know what I mean Gallagher.” Mickey stated, glaring at the redhead. Suddenly Ian was on top of the older boy. The redheads tongue tracing the shell of Mickeys ear, earning him a barely concealed shudder. Mickey groaned as if he was annoyed, but Ian knew that if that was really the case, he would be on the floor with his ribs aching. 

Mickey enjoyed the way the younger boy pinned him down, and assaulted his neck with rough bites and licks. Ian’s hands roughly grasped Mickey’s hips, knowing that light blue bruises will form in his shape afterwards. The thought made him grin wide into Mickeys neck. 

“Get on with it Fire-crotch” Mickey rasped.

Ian’s hands flew to the ex-cons jeans and struggled to pull the article of clothing off. With the help of Mickey, his jeans lay discarded on the floor joining the many others littered around. Ian roughly ground his hips to Mickeys as the older boy struggled to conceal a moan.

Mickey’s arms slid under Ian’s shirt and littered bruising touches across his hips and muscled shoulders. The move paid off as the younger boy rutted against Mickey harder as the man under him scraped his blunt nails down the redheads back. 

Usually when the pair fucked, they would still have most of their clothes on so they could quickly finish up. It was because in the back of their minds they were still cautious and on alert for signs of other life. But right now, Terry was still in jail, his brothers out on some drug run, his sister currently distracted with Lip, they would not have to be so wary of others. That’s why they shed all of their clothes, tangled up in each other’s bodies panting, breathless. 

“Shit’s in the nightstand” Mickey gasped out, needing the feel of Ian inside him again. 

Ian slid Mickey’s boxers off and grabbed a condom and some lube out of the nightstand. Preparing Mickey was quick, he such a needy and ready bottom. “Come on” Mickey pleaded, biting the younger boys shoulder. Ian let out a shudder from the contact. 

Ian lined himself and roughly slammed into the older boy, reveling in the way Mickey coughed out a moan of pleasure and pain. The pace was unforgiving as the sweat slid down the skin of the pair, their bodies slapping and sliding against each other.

Its times like this when Mickey opens his eyes and allows himself to look at the pleasure filled face above his. Ian’s eyes closed and mouth open; panting. Mickey knows he’s the reason the pleasure is coloring Ian’s flushed face, and it goes straight to his throbbing groin.

Once Mickey and Ian tumble through their orgasms, they fall boneless onto the bed with a creak. Ian slips out and discards the used condom, and plucks some napkins to clean the thick white ropes that decorate their sweaty stomachs.  
Ian lies next to Mickey in his small bed sated as a smile etches onto his face. He had sex with Mickey many times (and in various positions for that matter) but he had never actually fallen asleep with him. Ian knew that Mickey had feelings for him, it had taken a while learn how to read between the lines and decipher Mickey, but Ian was more than willing. Ian liked Mickey right after the older man threw him Kash’s gun, but lately the word love had floated around Ian’s mind. He liked Mickey, definitely, but he was starting to want more, and feel more.

Snapping Ian out of his thoughts, Mickey rose out of bed still in the nude and walked out of the bedroom. Ian hadn’t tried to hide the fact that he was admiring the view from his position on the bed. At least the ex-con hadn’t pushed him out of his bedroom and slammed the door. Ian looked at the ratty and old bedside alarm clock and saw that it was 10:05. It wasn’t too late to go and do stuff, and wasn’t too early to succumb to sleep. 

Mickey walked over to his sister’s room and found one of the things he was looking for. It was his favorite pair of sweats, the only one of his that was relatively new. Due to the fact that it was comfy and the least ratty, his sister tended to ‘borrow’ it constantly. Although he would constantly give her grief about it (and a nipple pinch-because he could) Mickey didn’t really mind that much, it was just an extra chore. 

In the confines of Mandy’s room, he slipped on the pair of grey sweats and while he looked for the baggie of weed, he let a small smile ghost over his face. He had Ian, Ian Gallagher over at his house. Ian wasn't there for Mandy, and it wasn’t just for a quick fuck, he was there and he was comfortable just joking around with Mickey. 

Mickey never really had many friends, usually due to the fact he was shit at showing what he feels. Mandy was a bit more fortunate in that department, it was one of the things Mickey envied about his sister. 

He wouldn’t tell Ian he enjoyed his company, he would probably die a bit on the inside admitting it. Mickey didn’t really want to do anything other than laze around inside the house, albeit with a certain boy but whatever. Mickey had a pretty busy week; work, family business, and some knee breaking jobs here and there so he really wanted to just relax a bit. 

Finally finding the see through baggie in one of the many cabinets Mandy had, he walked to the kitchen and grabbed some beers on his way back to his room, back to Ian.

After a while Ian had gotten a bit worried about what Mickey was doing. The older man had not said where he was going, but Ian knew that he didn’t want to leave the bed he nestled into. If he had gotten out, he didn’t really have an excuse to get back in but if he just stayed there he could pass it off as being lazy.

Finally Mickey had made his entrance, although he had two beers and some weed with him. Ian smiled; he realized this was kind of Mickeys way of letting Ian know he wanted him to stay in the room, with him. “Thanks” Ian smiled as he took the beer from Mickey, looking into his blue eyes. “Whatever” Mickey says, rolling them for good measure. He didn’t know how to accept thank you’s or compliments for that matter. Ian then noticed that Mickey had put on some sweats, but he could still see the man’s bare chest and his waist. God he looks fucking great shirtless. Mickey could have easily dragged Ian out and kicked the redhead to the couch but he wanted to spend time with him. The thought made Ian’s smile widen as he sat up from the bed and grabbed his boxers and slipped them on. Ian knew Mickey was watching his body from where he had sat on his bed. Ian loved the way Mickey’s eyes would stare up and down his body, as if he couldn’t believe that Ian was actually there.

The two proceeded to put on some music as they rolled the joints and lit up. Mickey lay on his bed, head leaning against his headrest, and Ian lay on a pillow to his right as his head was cradled by his palm. The night passed slowly as they soaked up in each other. The pair talked about a lot of meaningless things, and although Ian had to do most of the talking, Mickey’s sarcastic remarks and smirks made his night.

Mickey had always tried to pretend that he wasn’t listening, and sometimes he wasn’t. He was just watching the ways that Ian’s mouth moved, how his red lips wrapped around the words that flowed out of him, and at his hands that played with the strings of his sweats. Although sometimes, Mickey would be completely invested in Ian’s stories of crazy Gallagher Christmases, or of his training, and if he wasn’t so high out of his mind, Mickey would of shook off the hand that crept onto his thigh gently, but he didn’t.

Instead, in a moment of silence Mickey’s tattooed hand reached for Ian’s head and played with the ends of the redhead’s hair. Their eyes met, and Ian’s was filled with some shock, but was very soon replaced with softness. Mickey felt like Ian was the sun, and maybe that was gay and sappy as hell, but Ian was warm, bright, and he was also hard to look at. 

All his life Mickey was never enough for anyone. Not his coke head mother, not his abusive father, not his homophobic brothers, and not his baby sister. He was definitely not enough for Gallagher. Ian deserved some cute sappy motherfucker who would kiss him, hold his hand, and give him things. Mickey wasn’t better than the geriatric viagroids that Ian fucked either. But why did Ian look at him like he was the one who hung up the fucking stars in Ian’s world? 

Ian saw something go through Mickeys eyes, it was akin to sadness, but it was something he saw in Mandy when she talked to him about how she thought she was worthless, and it was the look Mickey gave him that made him sit up to Mickeys level.

A look of surprise took over Mickeys face at their closeness. They were practically cuddling now; Ian had his hand now resting on Mickey’s bare stomach, and Mickeys hand ended up behind Ian, near his back. Mickey could feel Ian’s breath on his mouth as their eyes locked onto each other. 

Mickey couldn’t help looking at the redhead that shattered his simple world with that stupid tire iron, and once again Ian gave him a look that made his insides squirm.  
Ian broke the simple quiet between them as he whispered “Don’t rip my tongue out.” The redhead lifted the hand that rested on Mickey’s stomach up to gently rest on the back of Mickey’s neck and their mouths softly pressed together. 

The kiss and touches they exchanged was different from their first one. The kiss in the van was quick and rough, but this kiss felt like floating in the ocean. Mickey’s arm pulled Ian closer, resting at the small of his back, and Ian wrapped a leg around Mickey trying to mold them together. 

Ian was in love with Mickey  
And Mickey finally admitted to himself that maybe he loved Ian too. 

The kiss stretched on for a while, and it was a kiss which expressed all Ian needed to understand; that Mickey really did care for him. Mickey didn’t do words and flowers, but he showed his feeling with actions, and his actions felt world changing against Ian’s lips. 

When they broke apart Mickey mumbled “Fuck.” in wonder and defeat. He realized that hiding his feelings are going to be harder if not futile now. Mickey rested the back of his head against the headboard and carefully looked at the redhead next to him. Ian had rested the side of his head onto Mickeys shoulder, and the smile that stretched against his face made Mickey bite his lip from mirroring Ian’s smile. 

“I see my tongue is still intact…” Ian grinned.

“Shut the fuck up Gallagher” Mickey said, immediately feeling embarrassed and contemplated hitting the redhead in annoyance. 

Ian hummed on top of Mickey as his phone still softly played music on the floor. Ian found himself slipping away, and knew that he was as close to sleep as Mickey. Slowly detaching himself from Mickey, he heard a grunt from Mickey jostling awake, frowning at the loss of touch. Ian slipped under the covers and Mickey got the hint. 

Mickey proceeded to lower himself and crawled under the sheets with Ian. Mickey found himself once again embarrassed, he wasn’t supposed to be cuddling and sleeping with Ian, so he turned his back to Ian on the bed, finally letting himself smile when the redhead couldn’t see. Mickey’s plan to retain some dignity failed as pale freckled arms warmly wrapped around his body. Mickey felt Ian’s heartbeat thud against his back.

All Mickey could feel was Ian. 

Ian’s flesh against his own, his lips against his nape, and his strong arms around his body. And as much as a part of him wanted to be disgusted and hate the feelings the redhead brought with his touch, he could not. Instead all Ian’s touch brought was safety and warmth. It felt like the world withered away and all that remained was Mickey’s dusty and dirty room. 

Ian slowly awoke to a beautiful sight. It was 6 in the morning, and the sun had just barely started to rise, and the room was filled with hues of red and orange light. But the sun was not the sight that made Ian’s heart squeeze painfully tight. Instead it was the sight of lean pale flesh lying next to him. Mickey was laid out on his back, and Ian was nestled in the crook of Mickey’s shoulder. The older man’s face was peaceful, and his sleeping face hinted at a smile. 

Ian couldn’t believe how lucky he was. Mickey was unguarded as he slept, and it was a wondrous feeling in Ian’s chest as he realized Mickey was so vulnerable only with him. Ian who wasn’t as smart as his older brother Lip, or as responsible as Fiona, was the one who peeled the layers of Mickey back and rooted himself in the older boy’s heart.

Ian felt like he was endlessly falling off a cliff, and it was exhilarating

The redhead lay in the other boy’s arms for a long while just staring at him, placing small and light kisses on his chest, breathing in the light smell of cigarettes and something entirely Mickey.

Mickey slowly awoke, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The first thing he saw was a pair of forest green eyes staring at him, filled with adoration. “Morning” the redhead mumbled, still looking at Mickey. Mickeys first thought was so brush him off, and jump out of bed, kicking Ian out, but instead he found himself smirking up at the boy and yawning. 

“What time do you have to sneak back into the house?” Mickey asked, stretching up and walking slowly to the bathroom to take a piss. He heard the bed creak in relief as Ian got up and flushed the toilet. Mickey returned to the room and saw a hurried Ian. The clock read 6:40. Ian was looking around for the articles of clothes that littered the floor from the night before and Mickey bit his lip and unconsciously felt his thumb settle in the corner of his lips as he waited for a reply. 

“Uhh I have to leave in a couple of minutes to make it back on time.” Ian replied hurriedly as he simultaneously pulled on his jeans and threw his shirt back on. Mickey hid the disappointment easily as Ian scurried around looking for his left sock. Mickey looked at the bed and at the foot of it he saw the white sock and walked up, grabbing the fabric in his tattooed hands.

Extending his hand out to the still searching redhead, the boy smiled gratefully and mumbled a thank you. Mickey had a shift at the Kash and Grab at 4 pm, which also had a certain guy working as well. The thought made his mouth convert to a smile. Ian who had successfully found his clothes and was dressed stood in front of the ex-con. 

“So…” Ian drawled.

Mickey stood silent, not wanting to say anything. He didn't want to offer up an annoyed remark, and honestly had no idea what to say in a situation like this. Last night was great? I kind of don’t want you to go? Bye? What could he even say? So instead he waited.  
“I had a lot of fun, thank you Mick.” Ian said earnestly, smiling down at Mickey through his dark lashes. Mickey looked down at Ian’s lips and had the urge to kiss them and wrap his hands around Ian’s body, but instead Mickey grumbled out “yeah, uh, me too, I guess” swallowing another rude remark. Suddenly Mickey could feel Ian look at his own lips and thought fuck it, crashed his lips to Ian’s, and sucked on his bottom lip, running his hands down the younger boy’s waist to rest in a tight grip on his hips. 

“Bye” Ian finally said when they finally retracted from each other, flushed and smiling. 

The sight of Ian walking through the door saddened Mickey more than it should. He was going to see him at 4 anyways, so why was he being such a girl about it. “Goodbye kisses? Jesus, I’m a teenage girl.” Mickey grunted out loud and collapsed back onto his bed. The faint smell of Ian lingered on the bed, and if anyone said that Mickey hugged his pillow closer to the smell, he would deny it to his dying day.

Walking down the Milkovich steps, all Ian could think about was Mickey.


End file.
